


the lonely witch.

by roses



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, How Do I Tag, My First Work in This Fandom, Silent pining, angst? maybe, sad lonely sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-25 01:18:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17111714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roses/pseuds/roses
Summary: The two magicians were always inseparable. Always in tow, the little witch would follow her Master at his heels wherever he went, her hand in his.But now the little witch walks alone, maintaining her shop, and the town watches her go about, her Master's name hovering every few feet.





	the lonely witch.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm roses and I write! first piece for asra and my apprentice, her name is Val and she tries her best. This is more of an introductory thing and I just really went off I just let it flow. its not that good hh;;
> 
> also hello i love the salamander that chills in the stove can he be my familiar pls

“Young friend, how long has your Master been away?”

She shrugged and paid the butcher his coin. 

“Little Witch, where is your Master?”

She smiled at the little children and gave them sweet fruit. One stared at her sway away, her limp showing only when thought out of sight.

“Miss Val!”

She smelled her favorite pumpkin bread. Their favorite. She walked over the gregarious baker, his stall inviting and warm. He immediately put a mint brew in her hand. It was a much heftier serving than usual.

“How are you? You look thin... Have you been eating?”

She nodded and smiled warmly, blowing into her steaming mug. She took off her spectacles before they got too foggy. She felt herself relax as soon as the warm liquid hit her throat.

“Any better?”

She nodded. They chatted for a bit, asking about her Master and her asking about how he's been, making sure that they had enough salve for burns. He even gave her charred bread pieces to take home to the fire salamander.

She hummed all the way home, trying not to let the voices from the market follow her. The shop was empty, locked, dark. After having a few slices of pumpkin bread and green tea, she organized the shelves in the shop, began grounding dried herbs to be put into pouches. She loaded the shop fireplace with logs. She coaxed the salamander from the stove and let him roam about. He appreciated the exercise and the charred loaf bits. It made her smile to see the salamander climbing the logs and basking in the warmest parts. She shuffled her shop deck, ready to clean off residual energy and start anew.

Custom came and went, inquires about her Master were always consistent and she shook it off as best as she could. For the lunch hour, she made stew in a large pot right in the shop and invited the children from earlier to join her, with promises to run deliveries for the kind Miss Witch. She smiled as she sent them on their way with their coin payment and she practiced making more spells, preparing jars for stacking. Some came in for readings, but today was not a happy day for the cards. They whispered words of heartache and sorrow, defeat. She tried her best to soothe the aching clientele with spells and charms as best as she could, but by the time she closed up shop and turned off the lanterns, she was weary and tired. Tears streamed down her face as she fought off the energy and drew a bath.

She sat in tub full of lukewarm water mixed with rice milk, lavender, and chamomile; knees drawn up and hugged to her chest. In her rib cage, she held the desire to cry but her tears were now burning, bone dry. She was so tired. In the milky, sweet smelling water, she stayed until the water got cold. She wrapped herself up in a robe, a present from long ago. It was worn soft and faded, its vibrant amethyst hues cooled down. She wrapped a lace knit shawl around herself too, fetching this and that until she heard a knock at the backdoor. The children came in again, pleased to deliver news from happy customers. She shared her earned coin with them, almost all of it in the children's pouches. She passed around tea mugs and the smallest stared at her, squeaking out, "Miss Witch, are you lonely?" 

Her smile faltered. She shook her head, "How can I be, with you delightful bunch helping me all the time!" 

She sent them on their way with warm pasties, calling after them to keep warm, calling after the eldest to keep watch over the little ones. She smiled at them one last time before heading back inside. She locked up the doors and went up to bed. After a very long day, sleep was welcome, but it did not come easily. In her dreams, she was stronger, livelier. She felt healthy and unhindered. But she didn't dream, she got up after a few minutes. She collected her lace shawl again and her Master's scarf. As she made tea, she breathed in ghost notes of him, her heart aching both all too much and numb to the throbs. 

She didn't catch the door opening, a sigh relieved, a hat and coat placed on a rack next to a light mauve shawl twinkling in the moonlight. As his white, gleaming curls registered in her hazy vision, she dropped her small teacup, the china tinkling on the floor. She gasped and ran to Asra, his arms wide open and ready to catch her. 

“You're home...”

“I'm sorry... I've missed you so much.”


End file.
